The Diet
by StarsOfMagic
Summary: When Severus Snape and his not-so-famous Slimming Potion go missing, years of Treacle Tart and Icecream cause the inevitable - unhealthy students. Do a Muggle Lifestyle magazine and a new teacher hold the answer? And can Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, and Hermione find Severus and his potion... or will they be eating carrot sticks for the rest of their school life?
1. Prologue

**A/N: I'm not sure if the dates are correct here. The Diet is set in Harry's fourth year, and according to Harry Potter Wiki Snape is born on January 9th 1960. At the moment, it's about a week before school starts, so Severus would be thirty three turning thirty four in a few months. Correct me if I'm wrong.**

**Prologue**

It was at age eleven that Severus discovered a liking to Treacle Tart.

His mouth watered as he thought of it – chewy, sweet, treacle-ness of the treacle and the soft pasty that melted in your mouth. Just thinking about it made his mouth water.

Of course, like everything he loved, it had almost been the death of him.

Severus remembered it clearly – it was just after dinner in his fourth year. He'd finished his homework quickly that day; old Slughorn had set them a twelve inch essay on the properties of moonstone (_What an ingenious subject_, fourteen year old Severus had thought to himself, _if I'm ever made potion teacher, I'll sure give that to my students_).

With a smirk on his face, he'd made his way across the green Slytherin common room and down the stone steps leading to his room. The steps were either very well polished or very wet that day. They always seemed overly shiny, like James Potter's shoes (here Severus actually growled out loud – how he hated that horrible git).

Thinking of James Potter also made him think of his good friend Lily: charming, pleasant, sweet, smart, popular, beautiful Lily. Severus just knew they were meant to be together…

_Anyway_, while he was thinking about Lily and James he'd arrived in his dormitory. It was the same as ever – a blur of silver and green hangings, polished mahogany furnishings, and heavy black flagstone. He wandered across the room and into the bathroom – which was very similar to the dorm room, incidentally.

It was only when he looked in the mirror that he knew in an instant that something was wrong.

Loud alarm bells rang in his head as he gaped at his reflection. He looked very much like a bat that had somehow half transformed into a balloon (Not fashionable at all!). There was a large rip in his school robes (Not fashionable at all!). And to top it all off, he had a _button missing on his shirt! _

Severus's heart began to beat fast. Oh no. What must Lily think of him? How long had he looked like this?

He stood there for a minute, trying to calm himself down. Panicking would _not _help. Usually he would recite the properties of a Bezoar. That sometimes helped when James Potter what taunting him.

_Bezoar can be used for many different purposes…_

_Coming from the stomach of a goat, it works as an effective cure to almost any potion…_

_Bezoar is commonly used in instances of poisoning…_

_Many fashion conscious witches use it to alter their appearance…_

_The Bezoar can…_

Wait.

_Alter his appearance?_

Severus's heart beat even faster. This was it! This was what would _revolutionise _the WORLD!

Ha ha. To think - now _Dumbledore_ had requested the use of his potion, thirty three year old Severus thought to himself as he poured the Powdered Unicorn Horn. No more worrying about Treacle Tart ever again. No five-small-meals-a-day diets ever again. He, Severus, was the saviour of humanity!

He called it _Knoltorgus Plotussum, _or Slimming Potion. It wasn't quite fool proof yet, but Dumbledore had tried it and everything had been fine.

Now just let it simmer for a few minutes…

Snape slid his journal across the desk and opened it to _August 16__th__. _Dipping his quill into a pot of blood red ink, he began to record his progress so far on the Slimming Potion.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor. _Dumbledore_, he thought absentmindedly, _what does he want _now?

Someone knocked at the door.

"Come in," Severus said tersely.

He turned around just in time to see a black cloaked figure lunge at him.

Severus staggered backwards, knocking into the desk. He hurriedly slipped his wand out of his pocket as the figure snatched something from his desk.

"Expelliarmus!" he half-screamed. The trespasser deflected his spell expertly, took his wand from his robes, and shot a beam of green light towards the potions master. Snape dodged it and propelled a _Sectumsempra _curse at his attacker. It missed the figure by an inch and hit the wall, bouncing back towards him. The attacker sent another spell at Severus, which he quickly repelled, making for the door.

He glanced at his challenger. Neither of them dared make a move. Severus had blocked the way out. The attacker had something that was his.

Then before Severus knew what was happening, the figure had snatched a potion from his desk and forced it in the professor's mouth.

Severus instantly dropped to the floor, gasping for breath and dropping his wand. It fell with a clatter to the floor and rolled under his desk. _Not this potion_, he thought vaguely, _no… _

He was dragged across the floor and into a dark space. He thought he heard a door slam, a long way away. Pitch blackness swam before his eyes as he collapsed into nothingness.

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**Severus is a bit OOC (on purpose) in this chapter, as you can probably tell. I can't imagine JK Rowling's Severus boasting about being the saviour of humanity. Can you? **

**Please review. Even if you can't be bothered to login. **


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I should caution that there's some ****_very _****mild swearing in this fic (about the same as in the average HP book). If I have to, I'll raise the rating to T, but for now it stays K+. Also, this chapter is a bit of a filler, and kind of rushed. I may not be able to post Chapter Three for a while, due to a holiday soon :) **

* * *

**Chapter One**

"WAKE UP RONNIEKINS!"

"Urgh…" Ron groaned as someone jumped on his bed. Harry laughed from somewhere to his left.

"Percy's prepared an ode for you."

"He's performing it in the shower."

"Can't you hear the ghoul ballet dancing upstairs?"

"It's too early, Fred," Ron snapped, opening his eyes. He was almost immediately assaulted by a bright burst of white light escaping between the suspiciously large gap between the curtains. Shielding his eyes from the piercing sunlight, he sat up in bed, yawning deeply.

"You singing along, Ronnie?" said George, perching on his brother's desk.

"Shut up… and it's Ron, by the way."

"I'm sure Percy would love to give you lessons," said Harry.

Great. Not only were the twins waking him up at god-knows-what-time in the morning, his best mate had joined them.

"What time is it?" Ron grumbled.

"Half-past eight, wittle Ronniekins," Fred informed him, grinning wickedly, "Mummy's set up your high chair downstairs and she's got a little bowl of mashed potato to stuff down your ickle baby throat."

Seconds later a toy quaffle had been pegged at him.

"_Good _Ronniekins, _good _Ronniekins," George said, pretending to edge towards the door.

"Percy's outside in a glimmering bath robe ready to sing your song!"

The twins sprinted from the room, crashing downstairs like a herd of elephants.

"Why do they have to wake us up so early?" Ron complained to Harry.

"Half-past eight isn't early, Ron," Harry reminded him, "Well, not _that _early. We go back to Hogwarts today, remember?"

Ron gave a start, "Merlin, I forgot! Wonder who the new Dark Arts teacher is?"

Harry shrugged, "Dunno. I wish Lupin was still teaching, though."

Ron nodded, "Yeah. At least we _learnt _stuff."

When they arrived downstairs, Mrs Weasley was clattering around in the kitchen in a distracted manner. She was gritting her teeth as if freezing cold water was being poured over her, hand shaking as she flicked her wand at a pot on the stove.

"Morning, Mrs Weasley."

"Morning, Mum."

"Oh, you're up," Mrs Weasley turned and gave them a weak smile, "Percy just left."

"Right," said Ron. He glanced at Harry, who looked as if he too had noticed Mrs Weasley's odd mood.

"…Your father's on his way to work, I expect," Mrs Weasley murmured absentmindedly, forgetting to check her clock. The hand with Mr Weasley's face on it was clearly pointed to "Home".

"Mum," Ron said cautiously, "is something… worrying you?"

Molly stopped, took in a deep breath, and gestured towards the table, "You may as well look."

Harry shot a questioning glance at Ron, then at the table. A copy of the _Daily Prophet _was boasting the newest headlines.

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT CANCELLED – DUMBLEDORE SPEAKS OUT ABOUT MISSING TEACHER.

"What?!" Ron burst out, "missing teacher?"

"What's the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Harry.

Ron ignored him and read the article, "Professor Severus Snape, potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was reported missing by the school's Gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, three days ago- bloody hell!"

"Snape? Missing?" Harry's jaw dropped.

"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore revealed to the public today during a tear-stained interview that he is cancelling the Triwizard Tournament that was scheduled to be held at Hogwarts this year. It is not known if Snape's disappearance and the incident at the Quidditch World Cup are connected."

"Good morning," Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley entered the room.

"Hi," said Harry. He was aware of a blush creeping onto both Ginny and Ron's cheeks, but that was something he really didn't want to think about.

"Oh, hi," Ron said (his voice suddenly dropping an octave) "you heard the news?"

"Snape's disappearance?" said Hermione, "Yes. I can't believe Dumbledore's cancelling the Tournament."

"What is the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes "You know, if you'd read _Hogwarts: a History _by Bathilda Bagshot you'd know by now. The Triwizard Tournament is a magical contest held between the three largest wizarding schools of Europe, each school being represented by one Champion. Selected Champions compete in three dangerous tasks - traditionally judged by the Headmasters or Headmistresses of the competing schools - designed to test magical ability, intelligence and courage. Champions compete for the honour and glory of winning the Tournament and for the Triwizard Cup."

"Wow," said Ron, his voice suddenly normal again, "I mean, er-"

"Right," said Harry, "but how come I've never heard it before?"

"Because you haven't read _Hogwarts: a History_," answered Hermione, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Actually, because it was discontinued," said Ginny shyly. Everyone stared at her. "The last Tournament was in 1792."

"Why was it discontinued?" asked Harry, after getting over the shock of actually hearing Ginny speak.

The youngest Weasley blushed again, but explained anyway, "They thought the tasks were too dangerous."

"That's nonsense," Hermione interjected, "Dumbledore wouldn't let anything bad happen to the Champions."

"I'm guessing that's why it was going to happen again," said Harry, "what are the other schools?"

Hermione began to answer, but Ron interrupted. "Why are we talking about the Tournament anyway?" he asked, "Snape's gone missing, he have to be happy about missing potions!"

"I expect they'll find a replacement for him soon enough," Hermione reminded him.

"Don't care. No more will we have an evil, greasy bat hanging around the castle."

"Ron!"

"What?"

"That's not very respectful of your teacher!"

"Well, sorry."

Someone placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Arguing like an old married couple again, are they?" asked George, as Hermione's voice became shrill. There was a glint in his eye.

"Yep," said Harry.

"OK, breakfast, everyone," called Mrs Weasley, placing a plate stacked with toast on the table, "then we'd better hurry up, if you want to catch the Hogwarts Express by eleven."

Either Harry or Ron would've made a joke – possibly about the time they drove a flying car to Hogwarts – but it was a tender subject around Mrs Weasley, especially in her current state.

As she helped herself to a slice of toast and marmalade, Mrs Weasley caught sight of the new article and sighed, "It's just… wrong. You four deserve a happy time at school. Instead, we've got… this!"

She waved her arms around wildly to illustrate her point, narrowly missing Ginny's face.

Breakfast seemed to pass in a flash as everyone got ready for school. Having packed most of their things the night before, it was relatively easy, and soon they were packing their trunks into the back of a Ministry Car and setting off.

"There was only one car left," Ron explained to Harry, "and somehow Dad got it. I guess they're in high demand; all the drivers are highly trained in defensive magic. People want security."

"Why couldn't Percy reserve one?" asked Harry, "isn't he Crouch's assistant?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "You know Percy. "I'm very sorry, but I've got absolutely no time. Mr Crouch is working me very hard this week. But there you go – you can't put off a little hard work"."

Hermione and Harry laughed. Ron looked faintly pleased with himself as he peered out of the tinted black windows.

When they arrived at Kings Cross Station, a crowd of Muggle girls passed them giggling. Fred winked in their direction, setting off a chorus of high pitched laughter like squeaky TNT.

"Ha ha. I knew I was the good looking one," Fred said to George.

George shrugged, "I can do it better."

He ran over to the group of girls. Harry didn't know what he said, but it set off another load of Giggling TNT. George came back, grinning.

"What'd you say?" asked Ron.

George looked at Ron as if he'd only just realised that his younger brother was there. He chuckled, "Just a few compliments."

Harry was watching a girl at the back of the group with flowing black hair. She seemed oddly familiar…

"Compliments?"

"You have a lot to learn, lil' bro."

As they neared the barrier, where the secret entrance to Platform 9 ¾ lay, no one saw Ron sneak a quick glance at Hermione. The bright sun and lights lit up her intricate curls, making it appear the colour and texture of molten gold.

_I _do _have a lot to learn_, he thought to himself wistfully.

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**Poor "Ronniekins". Please Review - even if you don't want to login, like me sometimes. Also, if you'd like to recommend any fics to me in the review (can be your own or someone else's) that would be FANTASTIC! **


	3. Chapter 2

As soon as Harry stepped onto Hogsmeade Station, he felt an enormous wave of fuzzy relief seep into him, like a mug of calming hot chocolate. He was back in the magical world. There were the carriages, pulled along by magic. There was the thick dark forest, the gravel path lit by floating lamps dotted around the edges. There was Ron, waving a hand in front of his face-

"You OK mate?"

Harry's eyes snapped open, the wide, silly smile disappearing from his face instantly.

"Uh, yeah, um, I'm fine."

Ron nodded and the two began to struggle through the crowd towards the carriages, hauling their trunks along with them. Somewhere to his right, Harry could hear Hagrid, his loud voice carrying over the students milling around on the station ("Firs' years over here, Firs' years!"). He could never tell Ron or Hermione this, but he never felt properly relaxed unless his was at Hogwarts. Hogwarts was as good as his home. No, Hogwarts _was _his home.

_As it was with Voldemort and Snape_, he reminded himself. _No, no, the sorting hat put me in Gryffindor-_

"Harry, Ron!" Harry's thoughts were, once again, interrupted. This distraction came in the form of Neville Longbottom – the clumsiest boy he'd ever met.

"Hi Neville," said Ron, as Neville stumbled over his trunk, "you had a good summer?"

"Yes," Neville looked slightly downcast, "although I didn't make it to the Quidditch World Cup. Gran didn't want me to go. I'm glad I didn't, after what happened, but… I wouldn't have minded seeing the game."

"It was great," said Ron excitedly, and he looked ready to launch into a blow-by-blow action retelling of the match when Neville continued to speak.

"Did you hear the news?" he asked, "y'know… about Snape?"

Harry nodded, "According to the Prophet it's not linked to the Death Eater attack. Hopefully they won't bring back the Dementors."

Neville shuddered, a worried look on his round face, "You seen Hermione?"

"No, she left the train first," said Ron, "how come?"

"I just, er… um…" Neville muttered something that sounded like "curious".

Harry glanced at Ron and saw with a jolt of surprise that his friend looked angry. His eyes immediately widened.

Why hadn't he been expecting it?

Of course, he'd suspected his friends might be like this someday, but he couldn't have realised that it would be so soon. He'd noticed them all summer – discreet glances here, small smiles there – but in the excitement of the Quidditch Cup, and Snape going missing, he'd completely forgotten.

"Yeah, well, we'll be going," Ron grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him away from Neville, towards the carriages. Neither of them said anything for the entire trip, and there was an uncomfortable silence hanging in the air like a thick, heavy quilt.

It was only when the sorting was over and the hat had finished its song that Ron spoke to Hermione.

"Coul' you path the thicken?" he asked, through a mouthful of mashed potato and gravy.

"I'm sorry?"

"The thicken. You path?"

Harry handed Ron the platter of chicken wings, which had been lying next to a jug of pumpkin juice.

"You really shouldn't speak with your mouth full, Ron," Hermione said distastefully.

"Thorry," Ron swallowed his food, "Sorry Hermione."

Harry had been watching the exchange carefully. Grinning slightly, he helped himself to the pumpkin juice.

By the time they'd finished the feast, Harry's school robes were feelings uncomfortably tight. He looked down at his cloak and saw, in disgust, that one of the buttons was hanging loose.

"May I have your attention please," said Dumbledore.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at the head table for the first time that night, and noticed two things.

"Who is _she_?" asked Hermione. Sitting next to Dumbledore, in the seat that Snape usually occupied, was a thin witch with beach blonde hair and pink robes. She was grinning a toothy, pearly smile – looking to Harry like a female Lockhart.

"I'd like to make an important announcement," announced Dumbledore.

"He's looking quite thin, isn't he?" Hermione said anxiously, "you don't think-"

But she was cut off by Dumbledore's speech.

"I'd like to introduce Professor Honey," said the headmaster.

"_She's _the Potions Teacher?" Ron snorted into his food, "Merlin's Beard!"

Professor Honey was standing up and walking around the table to Dumbledore. She swayed her hips way too obviously, hair swinging behind her.

"Good morning students," she said in a sugar sweet voice, "it is my pleasure to be working here with you all, as the newly assigned Health Teacher."

The students in the hall looked blankly at her.

Honey continued, "It has come to the Headmaster's attention that there is a teeny tiny problem with the school… weight."

No one spoke, eyes fixed on Professor Honey with a mix of disbelief and horror. Harry glanced down at his robes and bit his lip. Yes, they were a teeny tiny bit too small for him… but…

"Years of eating this-"(she snatched a jug of juice from the teacher's table)"-and this-"(she waved a chicken drumstick in the air)"-have, obviously, caused the inevitable…"

All the girls in the school looked mortified.

"…The need for a smart, fun, and active Heath Teacher like me!"

Harry blinked.

Dumbledore smiled respectfully at the teacher before taking centre stage again, "Of course, with a great teacher comes a great responsibility – losing weight. For the rest of the year, each and every one of you will be partaking in a new, Muggle proven, diet. Instead of taking potions class, you will be required to take Health Class with Professor Honey instead."

Only half the students had heard him – there was a rustling going on as people checked their tight school robes. Some, like Crabbe and Goyle, were laughing appreciatively. Others, like Draco Malfoy, were freaking out.

As they climbed the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor common room, Hermione looked down at her robes and sighed.

"I don't remember the need of any of this before," she said glumly.

"Yeah… maybe Dumbledore is a bit too kind for his own good," Ron agreed.

"I don't think so," said Harry.

The other two turned to him.

"I think it has something to do with Snape's disappearance," he continued, "think about it – were your robes ever this tight before?"

"Um, no," said Ron.

"Exactly. I think he did something – maybe slipped a potion into our food – that prevented… _this_."

"You mean a weight loss potion?" asked Hermione. Harry nodded.

"Well… it's very plausible," she said, a smile creeping onto her face, "I supposed I could look it up in the Library tomorrow…"

Ron nodded, "Yeah, great idea Hermione!"

Hermione had to glance at him to figure out whether he was being sarcastic or not.


End file.
